


Misgivings

by potidaea



Category: Into the Wild (2007), Into the Wild - Jon Krakauer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potidaea/pseuds/potidaea
Summary: Ron's thoughts on Chris' funeral. Originally written and posted to FF.net in 2009.





	Misgivings

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ [kilyun.tumblr.com](http://kilyun.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find me on twitter @ [ki1yun](https://twitter.com/ki1yun)

I watched as sorrowful beings walked into the chapel, their heads hung low.

Well, all except one man…a slim man, hair much longer than my own white wisps, a small, sad smile on his face. He must've been a friend of Alex's, someone he met on the road.

It had been seven months since I dropped him off in that godforsaken desert…seven months since he told me that we'd talk when he got back from Alaska. And now? Now I have no one. No family. No friends. Nobody.

Three weeks ago, I heard on the news about some hunters finding a body in the woods…three weeks ago, I traveled. I drove out to where the body was said to have been found. I hesitantly exited my car, taking delicate steps towards the police tape. I asked to see the body. They refused. I asked for a name. No ID, they said. A picture of maybe just his face, I asked—no, begged, and no one likes to see an old man beg. They let me see. It was him.

So, here I sit, viewing the grief of others, trying to ignore my own, praying Alex will give me that strength to refuse the whiskey.

The long-haired man walked up to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, and then very quietly, he pronounced his name, "Rainey."

I nodded, letting him know I heard him, "Ron."

Who I guessed was his wife sat next to him after he occupied the space to my left. It was obvious to the both of us that we weren't welcomed. To the McCandless family, or at least the mother and father, we were the enemy. We were what got their son killed, in their minds. We practically pushed him into this.

The service started, and we listened to his parents, cousins, and a friend or two from college speak on his behalf, and then his sister went.

She took a deep breath, looking down at a piece of paper, but then folding it and looking back up, "I loved Chris very much, and I still do. I always will, but I don't know him very well…I lost sight him. My parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents…they aren't very happy that Chris' friends came, but they did. Not the 'friends' he had growing up…the ones he made in his travels. And I would be honored if you would speak on his behalf. Please, if you would, come up here."

Rainey's wife, Jan, looked to the two of us, smiling, encouraging.

We made our way to the alter, blessing ourselves, and then looking to the young woman before us. Carine looked to us, appreciatively; silently thanking us…she was somehow grateful for our presence.

I walked up to the podium first, "I met Alex or Chris as most of you know him, in the same town I've lived in for years. I offered him a ride. He directed me through a nudist beach, and then showed me his camp." I laughed lightly at the memory, "At first, I thought he was insane, a young man with a college education living in the dirt." I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears start to well up, "Alex was the kindest man you could ever meet…he was an old soul." The tears began to fall, "Alex was family." I choked out a sob, "God, if I'd only driven him to Alaska." The tears were streaming down my face, my shoulders shaking as I cried.

I could hear Rainey speak his eulogy to the crowd of people as I walked out of the chapel. It was only two in the afternoon, but I went to the nearest bar anyway.

I sat down, tears still falling, "Whiskey."

The bartender placed the beverage in front of me.

I stared into the liquid in wonder.

I could feel the bartender's eyes on me. It was like he knew I shouldn't drink. He _knew_ it was wrong.

I let out a shaky, broken, "Take it away."

He nodded, grabbing the drink.

I should've driven him to Alaska…If only I'd driven him to Alaska.

_"...henceforth will learn to accept my errors, however great they be..."_

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ [kilyun.tumblr.com](http://kilyun.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find me on twitter @ [ki1yun](https://twitter.com/ki1yun)


End file.
